"- ' a. r /fx f 



SOLDIERS OF 
FREEDOM 



■j-jc (^rucc Oi'^e/oi^, 



SOLDIERS OF FREEDOM 






^7" 2/V£?2 



To 
Mr. and Mrs. George Foster Peabody 

In warm appreciation of your lifelong devotion 
to the cause of peace and good-will among nations 
and races, and your loyal support of the Great 
Peacemaker, Woodrow Wilson. 

Grace Bigelow House. 



SOLDIERS OF FREEDOM 

''They carried the great ideals of a free 
people at their hearts and with that vision 
were unconquerable." 

WOODROW WILSON. 



SOLDIERS OF FREEDOM 

6E ON, son, you'd better make your 
shoe-sole hot or you guine get left," 
called out the ferryman to a big, loose- 
jointed young Negro who was making his 
way down the long wooden wharf in a 
leisurely fashion. Before the boy reached 
the steps where the big, flat-bottomed row- 
boat lay waiting, the boat-man pushed off 
with a laugh. 

"Since you's got so much time, man, you 
might as well wait for de next boat !" 

The boy said nothing, but looked down 
at the receding boat in mute protest. 

"You'd better go back for him, Ben," 
said one of the passengers. "He is one of 
the men to go in the next call, and pretty 
soon he'll be fighting your battles for you. 
You wouldn't feel good to play him a mean 
trick now !" 



Soldiers of Freedom 

The man who protested was a well- 
groomed, alert young Negro with a pleas- 
ant but authoritative voice which bespoke 
the teacher. 

"Oh, well," said Ben good-naturedly, 
''if he's guine to fight dem Boches, I 
reckon I best take him along." 

The late-comer, aside from a grateful 
look, gave no thanks as he took his seat in 
the crowded boat beside his champion, who 
moved to give him room. His dull, listless 
face and stooping shoulders presented a 
striking contrast to the keen-eyed, erect 
young man beside him. 

"But," remarked the irrepressible Ben, 
"I ain't see what use Uncle Sam have fer a 
good-for-nothing nigger like you ! Why, 
man alive, dem Boches guine kill you dead 
too many times 'fore you find out it's time 
to run!" 

There was a general laugh. Ben's 
chafiing usually made the trip to and from 
the Island a merry one for his passengers. 

[2] 



Soldiers of Freedom 

When the laughter had subsided, the 
prospective soldier raised his head, and 
looking thoughtfully across to the ferry- 
man, said in his slow, drawling voice, 
"How, Ben? I ain't know Uncle Sam 
been lookin' for soldiers what could run 
away from de enemy. It seems like he 
druther have de boys what kin make de 
Germans run." 

There was a chorus of delighted ap- 
proval. "Now, son, you's talking 
straight! Tell it, Dave! You's in de 
stream! Talk it, man!" 

There were a number of drafted men in 
the boat who, like David Jenkins, had just 
been over for the physical examination. 
A rather excited comparison of notes com- 
menced, but young David sat silent, a 
drooping, dejected figure in the midst of 
that jovial crowd. 

No team was waiting for him when they 
reached the other side, so he started out 
immediately on his seven-mile walk home. 
He had not gone far on the heavy, sandy 

[3] 



Soldiers of Freedom 

road when a cheery voice called out, "Can 
I give you a lift?" The teacher pulled up 
his horses and the boy climbed in, but he 
had very little to say to the pleasant 
casual remarks of his companion, who 
was himself rather deeply absorbed in 
thoughts of his own. 

It was just before they reached the Cor- 
ner Store, where he was to get out, that 
David suddenly turned to the man beside 
him. "Can you tell me what all dis here 
fightin' business is about? I ain't got no 
quarrel wid dem Germans. Why must I 
go ter kill dem? Dey ain't done me no 
hurt, an' I ain't want to meddle dem. 
What has we poor colored folks down 
here got to do wid dis war? An' I tell 
you de truth, suh, I ain't see who guine 
wuk my farm when I done gone! My 
mother kinder feeble, and she ain't got 
but me one to 'pend upon." 

The teacher, who was going to camp 
himself in a few days, turned from his 
own problems and looked with keen inter- 

[4] 



Soldiers of Freedom 

est and sympathy at the dazed boy beside 
him. He explained patiently and clearly 
the provisions of the Government for the 
care of dependent families, and those 
causes of the war which might make some 
appeal to this bewildered mind, whose men- 
tal vision had never reached beyond the 
limited boundaries of his island home. 

''There is to be a meeting at the Blue 
Mountain Lodge next week for all the 
men who are leaving at the next call. Be 
sure and come out. You'll hear then all 
about what we are fighting for," he said 
at parting. 

The meeting was held the night before 
the drafted men were to leave. The dimly 
lighted society hall was gayly decorated 
with flags, and special seats of honor were 
placed for the soldiers. There was an at- 
mosphere of tense, suppressed emotion 
among the people, both white and colored, 
who had gathered at the hall to do honor 
to these first boys who were to leave the 
Island the next day for camp. 

[5] 



Soldiers of Freedom 

The boys themselves were quiet and 
awed in the face of these new experiences 
that were coming so soon. There were 
about twenty of them, some in "Sunday 
best" and others, Hke David Jenkins, who 
had come in overalls, fresh from work in 
the fields. 

They sat in their seats of honor in se- 
rious silence, and listened passively at first, 
but with growing interest, to the songs 
and speeches of those who had gathered 
there to wish them "God speed" as they 
entered on their great crusade. 

There was no light in the face of David 
Jenkins until his friend, the young teacher, 
arose to respond on behalf of the drafted 
men. 

"Friends, we have been found worthy 
to serve our country and our flag in a 
great cause. We are Soldiers of Free- 
dom ! We are to work and fight, not only 
to protect our country, but to help bring 
freedom and justice to many suffering 
people in Europe who have been crushed 

[6] 



Soldiers of Freedom 

under the heel of the oppressor, who have 
been made slaves under a military system 
which we know nothing about. 

"Our President has called us to go over- 
seas to help put an end forever to war, so 
that never again man will be called upon 
to lift his hand against his fellow-man! 
We must crush the Prussian military 
power and make straight the path of peace 
for all the nations of the earth, both weak 
and strong. 

"We Negro soldiers are proud to have 
a share in this great work. We are proud 
to be called upon to defend the honor of 
our flag and country, and to help the 
weaker nations of the world secure their 
freedom. To no people on earth does the 
word Freedom mean so much as it does to 
us, to whom it is still a new and sacred 
treasure. Our fathers remember the day 
when freedom was more to be desired than 
life itself. The longing for freedom is in 
our blood — our inheritance! We shall 
know how to fight in order to pass on to 

[7] 



Soldiers of Freedom 

others this great boon which was given to 
us at the cost of so much bloodshed and 
suffering in this great country of ours. 

"We go to do our share, without hatred 
in our hearts for our enemy, but with that 
which is more compelHng than hate — a 
great love in our hearts for our country, 
and a deep-rooted, living hope that when 
we have proved ourselves men, worthy to 
work and fight and die for our country, 
a grateful nation may gladly give us the 
recognition of real men, and the rights and 
privileges of true and loyal citizens of 
these United States/' 

There was deep feeling and fervor in 
the speaker's voice which thrilled his audi- 
ence. They listened spell-bound to the 
end. As he sat down, a clear tenor voice 
rang out, — 

*'' March on Freedom, 

March on conquering truth. 
Liberty is caUing/' 



* Words by Natalie Curtis Burlin to the air of 
"Ride on. Jesus". — St. Helena Island Spiritual. 
[8] 



Soldiers of Freedom 

The refrain was caught up by others, 
and verse after verse of that Hymn of 
Freedom, which was sung by the Negro 
troops in all the camps in this country, and 
over in France, were sung for the first 
time in the little society hall on St. Helena 
Island. The tune was familiar to all — a 
favorite, stirring "Spiritual" of the Island, 
"Ride on, Jesu§," but the words were new 
and seemed to carry new meaning to their 
familiar melody. It brought light into the 
eyes and courage to the hearts of the sorely 
troubled people. 

So it was that David Jenkins went out 
on his great adventure, with the Hymn 
of Freedom ringing in his ears, and the 
words of the teacher written indelibly on 
his mind and heart. He was a Soldier of 
Freedom! That was a matter for pride 
and thought. 

His painfully labored letters from camp 
to his mother told very little of what was 
happening to him. 

[9] 



Soldiers of Freedom 

"1 does my best to make a good soldier. 
You must pray for me that I have a good 
success. I is a Soldier of Freedom. Give 
my love to Handful and say 'huddy' to 
Manchie for me, and tell him he must keep 
that cotton clean till I come back. Your 
son, David." 

Once, just before he went overseas, he 
was given leave to go home. His mother 
did not recognize him at once. Tall, 
straight and supple, with a light in his 
eyes that told of an awakened mental life, 
he was indeed a new man. He wore his 
uniform with pride and distinction — a 
pride that was not egotistical or offensive, 
because it was pride for the cause he rep- 
resented. He was a son of Uncle Sam, 
a Soldier of Freedom! That idea had 
rooted itself deeply in all his thoughts. 

Through all the strain of those terrible 
days at the Front, in front line trenches 
or when going ''over the top", he clung to 
the thought of his high mission. He was 

[10] 



Soldiers of Freedom 

a Soldier of Freedom! He could never 
fail ! He was ready to suffer, and if need 
be to die, for something that would help 
the whole human race, that would put an 
end forever to all such agonies. 

He was seriously wounded in the Ar- 
gonne fighting, where he lost his leg. But 
there was never a word of complaint from 
him in those days and months of constant 
suffering in the hospital. He never once 
lost the serene courage of an undaunted 
spirit. He won the love and respect of 
those about him by his gentle patience in 
suffering and grateful appreciation of 
every little service and effort to ease his 
pain. He was always eager to lighten the 
burden of the over-worked nurses and doc- 
tors and to beguile the weary hours for 
his fellow sufferers by some cheery word 
or quaintly phrased humor. Often he 
would sing to some homesick boy the Spir- 
ituals of his Island and people, and some- 
times he sang the Hymn of Freedom, — 
[11] 



Soldiers of Freedom 

To Jew and Christian, Freedom, 
To white and black man, Freedom, 
Democracy cannot turn back, 
Liberty is calling. 

To each religion, Freedom, 
To every race, Freedom, 
March with the dawn-light in our face. 
Liberty is calling. 

Then march on. Freedom, 
March on, conquering hosts. 
Victory is calling. 

"You know, we is all Soldiers of Free- 
dom/' he would announce to his comrades, 
"and it sure makes me proud to know that 
we made a good fight and whipped them 
war-makers ! Now our President is goin' 
to fix it up so that folks ain't goin' to fight 
no more. No more of our boys is goin' to 
be cut up like we is. He's startin' up a 
society where folks can talk their troubles 
out, and settle their 'sputes like Christians 
'stead of like de sinner and de drunkard 
wid de gun. That seem to me like good 

[12] 



Soldiers of Freedom 

sense. Then all de world is goin' to be 
friends and brothers." 

''Come now, Dave, you ain't think we 
guine be friends wid dem Germans, does 
you?" called out one of the men incredu- 
lously. 

''Sure, man," came the quick response, 
"we ain't got no quarrel wid de Germans 
now we done lick dem! Seems like we 
sooner have all folks our friends than our 
enemy, and Fm thinkin' we can find all the 
friends in the world if we find that friend- 
ship in ourself." 

This was after the Armistice, and when 
the Peace Conference was well under way. 
But presently rumors began to get about 
that all was not going well at the Confer- 
ence, that forces of reaction and imperial- 
ism were pressing hard against forward- 
looking idealism. Fears, suspicions, selfish 
greed and narrow nationalism were find- 
ing expression among the people of shell- 
shocked Europe, and bringing to bear 
pressure in the Councils of the peace-mak- 

[13] 



Soldiers of Freedom 

ers against the broader, saner views of the 
American President and his delegation. 
There was talk that he would withdraw, 
and these rumors reached even the hospi- 
tal where David Jenkins, a casualty of the 
great war, lay dying. 

One day, early in April, he overheard a 
conversation between one of the doctors 
and some visitors, which left him brood- 
ing and thoughtful. 

'Well, doctor, I understand ^that the 
President is disgusted with the whole im- 
perialistic, land-grabbing crowd here at 
Paris and has cabled for the George 
Washington to take him home." 

"Yes, I don't blame him, but that means 
the end of the League of Nations, I fear, 
and without that this Conference will be 
simply sowing seeds for future wars. I 
must say, I hate to quit the job before we 
are through with it! It doesn't seem fair 
to the boys who have died over here, and 
to these who have given so much," said 

[14] 



Soldiers of Freedom 

the doctor sadly, with an expressive ges- 
ture toward the rows of hospital beds. 

The next day David Jenkins asked for 
paper and pencil. He refused courteously 
but firmly the proffered aid of the nurse. 
"No, muh, I must fer write dis myself.'' 
Painfully and laboriously he bent over his 
letter, taking short rests occasionally and 
pausing to wipe his moist forehead with 
the sleeve of his right arm. 

"Mr. President Woodrow Wil- 
son, DEAR Sir : I hope this finds you 
well as it leaves me. I am feeling fine, 
excusing my leg which I done left at 
the argon and there's a hole in my 
shoulder which keeps me kinder wake- 
ful. But I'se thankful my life is 
spared to see this day, and I pray God 
I may be a good soldier of Christ. I 
sure done my best to be a good soldier 
for Uncle Sam. 

I hear you is getten discouraged 
about that society you is tryin' to get 
a-goin' to stop all this war foolish- 

[15] 



Soldiers of Freedom 

ness. Don't you worry, Mr. Presi- 
dent, dear sir, you jes keep on an' we 
boys goin' to stand right back of you. 
Don't you pay no 'tention to them 
landgrabbers over here an' them 
folks back home jest wasten they 
breath a-talkin'. They ain't never 
been at the front, and they don't 
sense what war really is. If they'd 
a-been in the fight, you bet they'd quit 
their foolishness and be ready to try 
any kind of society what will keep 
folks from settlin' their 'sputes by 
killin' each other. I sure ain't like it. 
I ain't makin' no kick 'count of losin' 
my leg and such like, in dis fight to 
end war. I done what I could for my 
flag and country. We colored boys 
is proud we been do our share to help 
bring freedom to all these folks over 
here. But there's a-plenty of our 
boys lyin' dead back there at de front, 
an' we boys ain't satisfy to leave dem 
here widout finishin' up the job we set 

[16] 



Soldiers of Freedom 

out to do. You must do your best for 
us, Mr. President, with all these quit- 
ters. You must fer try and make de 
folks at home understand, jest make 
dem see things like we done see it out 
here. I can write no more, but on de 
knees of my heart I pray for you. 

Yours friendly, 

David Jenkins.'' 

The soldier finished the letter with a 
sigh and fell back exhausted. "Please, 
muh," he said faintly to the nurse who 
hastened to his side, ''Will you fer send 
dis letter to the President and ask him to 
send my answer back soon. I might not 
be able to wait too long." 

His letter was written just before the 
President was to attend that memorable 
meeting of the League of Nations Com- 
mission, on April 10th, where he made an- 
other great struggle to secure the Ameri- 
can amendments to that Covenant which 

[17] 



Soldiers of Freedom 

was to be the pledge and promise of a new 
era of peace and justice and freedom for 
the nations of the world. The session of 
the Commission that day lasted until mid- 
night. It was late when the President 
arose to make his final appeal. A record 
of that day's events states that (*) 
*'Those who heard him said it was the 
most dramatic moment in the Conference, 
and that the fire of the President's speech 
surpassed anything he had shown in open 
debates." 

Those who knew the great-hearted 
President best, realized that underneath 
the clear logic and force of his argument 
and his persuasive eloquence there lay a 
passionate determination to justify the be- 
reaved mothers and wives at home in their 
great sacrifice, and to keep faith with the 
dead, those Soldiers of Freedom, black 
or white, who had forever made sacred 
the soil of France to all Americans. That 



(*) Page 296 Peace Conference, Day by Day, by 
C. T. Thompson. 

[18] 



Soldiers of Freedom 

they should have made the supreme sac- 
rifice in vain was unthinkable to their 
Commander-in-Chief ! 

That very night of victory and achieve- 
ment, David died. He could not wait for 
his "answer back/' The slender thread of 
life had broken in that last great effort of 
his to help assure the lasting peace for 
which he had fought. 

''I shall always feel differently about all 
the Negro race, for having known this 
man," said the nurse with tears in her 
eyes. ''I have always lived among colored 
people in the South, but nowadays we 
don't learn to know and love them the way 
our fathers and mothers did in the old 
times. I never realized before that they 
could be anything but a problem and re- 
sponsibility. 

'Terhaps," she added slowly, "the Pres- 
ident is right, after all, in saying that we 
are not fighting German imperialism 
merely, but that we are one of the cham- 
pions of the rights of mankind and that 

[19] 



Soldiers of Freedom 

we shall be satisfied when those rights 
have been made as secure as the faith and 
freedom of the nation can make them. If 
that is true/' she continued with a sigh, 
"our fight is not won, but only just begun! 
I wonder if we shall do our share in the 
big fight coming, as faithfully and loyally 
as this simple Soldier of Freedom !" 

Another white cross was added to those 
endless rows of white crosses on the bat- 
tlegrounds of France; another life was 
laid down — a sacrifice on the altar of the 
world's freedom — or was it to be only an- 
other victim of the world's selfishness and 
greed? The cotton fields of his peaceful, 
sunny island knew David Jenkins no 
more, but the hope and faith that had 
made his life beautiful lived on in those 
whom he had touched, and reached out in 
an ever-widening circle to an unknown 
host. 

When a few months later, that other 
great Soldier of Freedom, weary and 
spent with the struggle, turned his face 

[20] 



Soldiers of Freedom 

westward, carrying with him in that dra- 
matic hour of history the Magna Charta 
of the world's freedom, something of the 
deep sacredness of his Trust could be felt 
in the challenging words, *'We stand at the 
cross-roads, however. The way is only 
pointed out, but those of us who have seen 
through the travail of war the vision of a 
world made safe for mankind, must con- 
secrate our lives to its realization." 

He faced the bitter struggle, for the 
honor and idealism of his country, with 
the serene courage and faith of an un- 
daunted spirit. No sacrifice was too great 
to make for the great cause of freedom 
and world peace. 

When at last he fell, another casualty 
of the great war, in that last gallant ef- 
fort, "to make the folks at home see and 
understand,** there came from him no 
word of regret or complaint. Perhaps as 
one who had recorded history and as a 
statesman who had helped to make history, 
he understood better than most people that 

[21] 



Soldiers of Freedom 

the real struggle had only just begun — the 
fight to 'Vindicate the principles of peace 
and justice in the life of the world" — a 
world demoralized by the most terrible 
war in history. 

Deep down underneath the bitterness 
and rancor of partisan politics and selfish 
greed and fear that found voice in the 
aftermath of war, there was growing a 
fuller consciousness of those ideals of 
peace and justice. They have become 
woven, like a golden thread, into the very 
fabric of our national life and thought. 
Whether we wish it or not, consciously or 
unconsciously, our thoughts and acts as a 
nation will be measured by the high stand- 
ards that, through the compelling voice of 
the President, have become our country's 
richest heritage. For this priceless gift to 
humanity, in this its darkest hour, a great 
silent multitude here and in every far 
corner of the earth, "on the knees of their 
hearts," are praying for this greatest sol- 
dier of Freedom. 

Grace Bigelow House. 

[22] 



